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MRS. LEMON'S NEIGHBORS 







MRS. LEMON^S 
NEIGHBORS 


BLOSSOM DRUM OLIPHANT 

Author of D#R-Day JournaP^ 


NEW YORK AND WASHINGTON 

THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 


1905 




^LIBRAHY of OONGrtESS 
fwo Copies rtoceived 

FEB 10 1905 

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Copyright, 1905 

By The Neale Publishing Company 


‘ , ‘ 


DEDICATED 
To the Members of 
The Contemporary Club 
of 

Trenton, New Jersey 
In Memory of a Delightful 
Afternoon Spent in Their Midst 








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large things — linity; 

In small things — liberty ; 
In all things — charity." 


















MRS. LEMON'S NEIGHBORS 


“What d’ you think of ’t, Sarah?” 

The speaker was a tall, angular woman, 
long past the prime of life; just such a 
type as one can find among the poorer 
element of any unfrequented hamlet of 
the Middle South, and yet not belonging 
to that great class known as “poor white 
trash,” where the narrowness of mind 
appears to warp and starve the body as 
well. As she paused, a grim smile tried 
to break through the stern lines of her 
thin yellow face, resembling nothing so 
much as the wrinkled back of an old calf- 
skin binding as the volume lies open, face 
down, on a table. 

“I dun know, but I guess ’twell do, 
maw,” the daughter answered, not per- 
mitting her needle to pause in its errand of 
flying in and out of some coarse, unlovely 


10 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

cloth. The face of the seamstress was 
pale and careworn, and the shallow chest 
and rounded shoulders showed all too 
plainly the havoc hard work and ill health 
had wrought on what had once been a 
robust and merry country girl. 

“Would do!” exclaimed the mother, 
indignant at the lack of enthusiasm shown 
by her offspring. “Why, Sarah Lemon, I 
just guess it’s ’bout the splendidest thing 
ez has happened to ’em in a whole parcel 
o’ time.” Again the smile deepened the 
wrinkles of her parchment-like cheeks as 
she saw in imagination the joy her invita- 
tion would create. “Won’t it give ’em a 
s’prise though?” 

“ ’Deed, yes,” assented her daughter, 
the soft Virginia twang making her words 
blur harmoniously. 

“How much you reckon ’twell cost?” 
Mrs. Lemon inquired anxiously. 

“Was you a-thinking o’ takin’ the men 
folks?” 

“Take the husbands — ’deed, no ! I does 
mos’ half the wittlelin’ o’ they families, 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 


11 


an’ I ain’t agoin’ ter pervide fer they 
pleasures too.” 

“Well, then, there’s Mag an’ her two,” 
began the seamstress, dropping her work 
in her lap and counting off the members 
of the proposed expedition on her long 
bony fingers. “An’ there’s Cinda an’ her 
three,” she continued, “an’ there’s you an’ 
me, an’ Bess. That’s five grown folks an’ 
five under twelve^ — but o’ course ’tain’t 
likely the train men would count Johnny; 
an’ ez I makes it out, ’twell come ter three 
dollars, an’ that don’t take in the sight o’ 
lunch you’ll hev ter take fer so many.” 

“My, my!” exclaimed the old lady 
excitedly, “I kin jes’ see they faces, Sarah, 
w’en I tells ’em. Why, the childern’ll go 
mos’ crazy.” With which announcement 
she betook herself to the kitchen. There 
Sarah could hear her humming an ancient 
hymn as she moved among her pots and 
pans. Suddenly the clatter of a knife fall- 
ing to the floor changed the music into 
grumbling. 


12 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 


“Kin I help you, maw?” her daughter 
called out. 

“No, yer can’t,” was the ungracious 
reply. “There’s them pertaters not peeled 
yet, an’ me ast Bess ter do ’em two good 
hours ago. ’Pears ter me,” she continued 
shrilly, after giving a sigh, “all that gal 
thinks on these here days is ridin’ straddle 
o’ two wheels, an’ berlongin’ ter clubs, an’ 
votin’. New woman, she calls it, but I 
think she’d be a sight better knowin’ ’bout 
bein’ a ole woman fust. I wonder she 
ain’t feared she might die ’fore she’s quit 
doin’ them ways. It’s kinder temptin’ 
Providence, like makin’ Adam a helpmate 
ter Eve, when the Lord ’spressly declared 
’t should be t’other way ’round.” There 
was silence for a few minutes, then she 
burst forth once more: “It’s a blessed 
good thing fer Miss Bess her paw ain’t a 
livin’; he’d a settled her an’ her idees an’ 
her clothes mighty quick, I tell you, fer 
he’d hev no such ways, er fool carryin’s 
on, ’bout him, an’ that’s w’at I kin tell 
her.” 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 13 

When the day’s work was over and the 
supper dishes had been set away in the 
spotless dresser, Mrs. Lemon and Sarah 
sat at the front door of their comfortable 
home, idly watching the people going and 
coming from the general utility store on 
the one street of which the hamlet could 
boast. 

“The gals ’peared ez pleased ez pleased,’’ 
the old woman averred, referring to the 
excursion, and she smoothed her apron 
over her knees before resting her elbows 
upon them. 

“Did they?’’ Sarah spoke weariedly as 
she dreamily gazed upward at the skies 
now throbbing under the spell of a gor- 
geous afterglow. 

“Is you tireder’n mos’ times, Sarah?’’ 
There was an anxious ring to the mother’s 
voice. “You seem sorter quiet-like ter 
night.” 

“Nope,” Sarah answered; then added 
after a second of silence, “but, truth is, 
maw, that whiles yer went ter see the gals, 
I kep’ a-thinkin’ ’bout them Nesbits, an* 


14 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

a-wishin’ I could see my way dare ter take 
’em too. They’s mighty po’.” Sarah 
paused, for her voice was growing husky 
with suppressed emotion. “Yer never 
hears ’em grumblin’, but I knows there’s 
a sight of scrimpin’ an’ savin’ done over 
yonder,” she continued, pointing to a 
cottage across the road. “It’s not easy 
fer ’em ter make bofe ends meet some- 
times. But there,” she sighed, as she 
rested her cheek on her clenched hand, “I 
can’t ’ford it, fer I don’t get a dime fer 
sewin’ these days, ter where I got a levy 
two years ago.” 

“Well, this do beat all !” ejaculated Mrs. 
Lemon, drawing her spectacles lower on 
her nose and gazing intently at her 
daughter over the rim. Never had Sarah 
been known to speak at such length on 
any subject, having always been the silent, 
hard-working member of the family, and 
expected to coincide with other people’s 
plans. “An’ is this what you’s ben 
steddyin’ over this mortal afternoon, an’ 
never tole me a word?” queried her 


Mrs. Lemon's Neighbors 15 

mother. “Now, I takes that right hard 
on you, Sarah Lemon, right hard, 'deed 
I does ; fer it look’s like yer took me ter be 
mighty mean.” To be penurious is one 
thing, but to know we are considered so 
is quite another, and no one resents the 
accusation with greater vehemence than 
those who are so inclined. 

“Well, but, maw,” began the younger 
woman, trying to defend herself and at 
the same time pacify her irate parent; 
“but, maw, yer never tole nobody what 
yer got. I say ’twas sho’ five dollars, fer 
yer kep’ a-talkin’ ’bout, the ’scursion, an’ 
of a gettin’ a new caliker fer yo’self 
besides. Cinda ’lowed ez John say it 
might be ez much ez ten, but o’ course we 
all knowed that wuz jes’ one o’ his jokes.” 

“Look-a-here, Sarah Lemon” — the old 
lady chuckled as she bent toward her 
daughter — “don’t yer go tattle. Y er won’t 
sho’? Well, then. I’ll tell yer right now.” 
Drawing her closer she whispered exult- 
antly in her ear, “Yer ain’t none o’ yer 
right ; ’twas twenty dollars.” 


16 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

“Lord-a-mercy !” almost screamed her 
daughter as she anxiously scanned her 
mother’s face to discover if there were 
visible signs of mental aberration. 

“Hush !” cautioned Mrs. Lemon quickly 
with her index finger on her lips, and 
looked about to see whether any one had 
been near enough to hear her child’s 
exclamation. “I never did think much o’ 
stocks,” she began by way of explanation, 
“and was somehow mighty onwillin’ w’en 
Deacon Lynn come an’ talked ter me ’bout 
what I was ter do with the thousand 
dollars Bowzer ’s done give me fer our 
piece o’ farm land, where they built the 
machines what runs the ’lectric cars. 
‘Put it in stocks. Miss Lemon,’ says he, 
‘an’ you’ll never regret it.’ But dear me, 
don’t yer know I didn’t half a-want to. It 
jest shows how little folks knows, even 
when they thinks they knows quite a lot, 
fer now, my — I wouldn’t be without them 
stocks, an’ I think a heap of ’em. You see 
it’s this away,” she continued, nodding her 
head sagely, “all yer has ter do is ter give 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 17 

’em yer money, an’ they give you a big 
piece of paper with writin’ an’ printin’ on 
’t, then you sets down and waits fer a 
spell, an’ pretty soon they sends you what 
you calls a divide-end, an’ that means 
twenty dollars fer me every six months. 
Course I kin get my money ag’in when I 
wants ter. But you was a-talkin’ ’bout 
them Nesbit gals — what’s it yer want 
done?” she asked as she settled back 
against the door-jamb. 

“I was jest a-wishin* they could go 
’long,” Sarah replied, “but I didn’t like ter 
press it, knowin’ yer was right pinched 
yerself las’ year.” 

“I’m mighty glad yer tole me,” Mrs. 
Lemon assured her heartily. “ ’Cept fer 
the dollar fer they tickets, ’twon’t cost 
nothin’, fer, they eats like birds, an’ they 
don’t seem the kind ez cares fer razzle- 
dazzles, ferrisses, shoot-the-shoots, an’ the 
like. Why, they won’t be no sort o’ 
trouble.” She now began to warm to her 
subject, and would soon declare that the 
idea had originated in her own active 


18 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 


brain. Before Sarah could express her 
appreciation, she added, as she rose to her 
feet and shook out her calico wrapper, “I’ll 
jes’ slip ’cross this minute an’ see ’bout it, 
fer they be the politenest folks I ever met 
with an’ they won’t be a trouble at all.” 
On reaching her garden gate she retraced 
her steps, and whispered mysteriously, 
“Don’t yer let on ’bout what I tole yer, 
fer if yer do, Bess ’ll sure want a new 
wheel, an’ Mag’s Fred ’ll be fer borrowin’ 
it offen me fer his new hencoop.” Not 
waiting for an answer, she again turned 
toward the roadway, muttering as she 
went, “It don’t always do ter let folks 
know yer too almighty rich; but Sarah’s 
different somehow — she’s safe.” 

“Good-evenin’, Miss Ruthie,” she said 
aloud the next moment as she entered 
the gate directly opposite her own and 
addressed a young girl who was bending 
over a small and well-kept plat of flowers ; 
“I hopes you and yer sister’s tol’able well 
ter-day.” 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 19 

“I am very well and Mary is about as 
usual, thank you.” Ruth Nesbit made a 
beautiful picture, in the half light, as she 
rose from her work, a diminutive garden 
spade in one hand and a watering pot in 
the other. The smile of welcome that 
lighted her countenance seemed to be 
playing a game of hide-and-seek among 
the dimples about her mouth and spark- 
ling blue eyes. The setting sun appeared 
to have forgotten to take all of his glorious 
color and brightness when he sank behind 
the Virginia hills, for piled above her 
snowy brow was a soft mass of golden 
hair, in direct contrast to the dark eye- 
brows and lashes that enhanced her 
beauty a hundred-fold. She was neither 
plump nor thin, of medium height, and 
graceful in every movement. The easy 
tread with which she came toward her 
visitor showed that by birth and education 
she had been intended for some higher 
sphere than the one she occupied at 
present. After a cordial greeting she led 
the way to the tiny cottage, whose door 


20 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

opened directly into the living-room. It 
was but a cramped abode of four rooms. 
The kitchen was at the rear of the sitting- 
room, with a narrow stairway between 
leading to the two chambers above. One 
could scarcely have imagined a more 
barren and unattractive place of residence 
when the sisters first moved into the 
house, yet in two years it had become a 
delightful and cozy habitation; for Ruth, 
by her ready tact and kindliness of dispo- 
sition, had soon won the hearts of her 
pupils and their parents, and before long 
they had become her staunch friends. 
This was proved in many ways, especially 
in their help and interest during the 
extreme illness of her elder sister soon 
after their arrival. 

Shortly after they were established in 
Mount Sion the men of the community 
gave the young teacher a surprise by 
erecting what Elder Jones referred to in 
his address of presentation as “a real neat- 
lookin’ Queen Annie porch with a lot of 
nick-nacks ’round ’bout it fer prettiness, 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 21 

an’ ’nough room atop ter set some few 
cheers an’ things house-cleanin’ times.” 
The women, not to be outdone by the 
sterner sex, hearing from the children that 
the sisters were fond of flowers, gave liber- 
ally of their slips and seeds, so that from 
early spring to late autumn the cottage 
had the appearance of a bower, nestled as 
it was among the vines and shrubs. 

“Mary, here is Mrs. Lemon,” the girl 
called cheerily as she opened the door, her 
clear voice seeming to penetrate every 
corner of the room, and yet leaving no 
jarring sound on the listener’s ear. 

“How kind of you to come.” And the 
speaker, a woman of some thirty sum- 
mers, advanced to meet her guest. “I 
was beginning to wish that this little 
sister of mine would come indoors, for I 
have been gradually losing myself in a 
fit of the blues.” Hers was another 
charming voice, but deeper and more 
vibrating. It was as the difference to be 
heard between two bells, both of fine tone ; 
the one tinkling out its joyous silvery 


22 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

song, the other as a sound from a cathe- 
dral tower that wafts its deep, soft note 
across the fields at the twilight hour. 

“Yer don’t say so.” And Mrs. Lemon 
peered at Mary Nesbit through the gath- 
ering gloom. ’Pears ter me yer two’s 
always so busy an’ cheerful like, yer 
never’d hev time fer them kind o’ fits; 
mebbe so ’tis ez well I come ter-night arter 
all.” 

The lamp had been lighted while the 
visitor was speaking, showing a room 
simply furnished, but over which there 
had presided a touch of refinement and 
taste that transformed the humbler sur- 
roundings into a bright, attractive apart- 
ment. Their neighbors felt the difference 
between this and their best rooms, and 
sought to secure the same result, but try 
as they might, they succeeded in but poor 
imitations. And yet, save for a desk, a 
table, and an arm-chair of fine old mahog- 
any, which was all they had left of happier 
days, the furniture was no better than that 
in any of the homes about them. 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 23 

Ruth had been the wage-earner of the 
household for many months, as well as the 
beloved darling and pride of the elder 
sister. But the queen of the home was 
Mary. She was tall and slender, but too 
well proportioned to make either her 
height or slightness detract from her ap- 
pearance. Her complexion was that of a 
lily, only relieved by the intense carmine 
of her beautiful lips. Her eyes were 
shadowy depths of brown, which harmon- 
ized to perfection with the heavy plaits of 
true chestnut hair which crowned her 
shapely head. A casual observer would 
not have fancied that for years she had 
been haunted by pain and anxiety, but 
closer scrutiny would quickly show in the 
exquisite contour and expression of her 
face the imprint of the martyr, and the 
blessing affliction can bestow on the coun- 
tenance of those, who not only endure, but 
also willingly bear their crosses with the 
strength that comes through patience. 
Something there was in her face that made 
men instinctively gentle and considerate 


24 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

in her presence, and caused all women to 
want her for a friend. The village chil- 
dren loved her, and were never happier 
than when she permitted them to be her 
companions for a walk, or gather about, 
their eyes wide with wonder, as they 
listened to some of the marvelous tales 
she could tell. In Mary, Ruth found a 
mother as well as sister, a counsellor as 
well as friend ; joining in all the pleasures 
and disappointments of their quiet home, 
and smoothing many a rugged step in the 
young girl’s path in life. If Tommy 
would not learn his lessons, or Ike had 
played truant, or Matilda Jane had told a 
fib, sister Mary knew how to quiet the 
anxious mind of the little teacher. An 
apparently accidental meeting with the 
unruly boy or girl, a few calm, wise and 
loving words to them on the subject near 
her heart, had invariably the desired effect 
and next day the refractory scholar would 
be in an angelic frame of mind. 

The sisters were always delighted to 
welcome Mrs. Lemon, and the old lady. 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 25 

like most of the daughters of Earth, thor- 
oughly enjoyed being made a fuss over. 
Her visits would always begin with sun- 
dry questions regarding their household 
affairs, the cost of provisions, the growth 
of their flowers, the state of the weather, 
and various matters of interest taking 
place among their neighbors. To-night 
was no exception to the usual order of 
topics, but when these had been suffi- 
ciently discussed to her satisfaction, she 
cleared her throat, resettled herself in her 
chair, and began to speak in a manner at 
once mysterious and important. 

“I reckon yer’s both a-wonderin’ what’s 
bringin’ me here so soon ag’in, fer if yer 
’members I was over jes’ las’ Saturday 
gone by ; but truth is there’s suthin’ on my 
mind fer quite a spell back, an’ I reckoned 
I bes’ come over, fer I says ter Sarah, I 
says, you’d take what’s ter be said better 
from me than from mos’, seein’ ez how I’m 
’bout yer bes’ an’ oldes’ friend, ez yer 
might say, in this ere town, since fust yer 
come; so T says ter Sarah, T’ll jes’ step 


26 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

right ’cross this very evenin’ an’ see them 
gals ’fore they comes ter hear it from other 
folks, an’ see what they’s ter say ’bout it, 
an’ let ’em know my reason fer thinkin’ 
it’s bes’ they’d go way fer a spell.’ ” As 
she concluded, her hearers’ hearts beat 
fast, and every imaginable evil that could 
befall them surged through their brains. 

“Oh! what can it mean? What have 
I left undone? I have tried so hard,” 
inwardly groaned little Ruth, as with 
blanched and trembling lips, and with 
fingers rigidly interlaced, she waited 
breathlessly to hear the sounding of her 
doom, her dismissal from the school 
pronounced. 

“It has come,” thought the elder sister, 
with a calmness born of despair, as she 
drew a quivering breath. “It was too 
good to last, but at least it has been a 
peaceful home to us for two years.” 

“Yer see it’s this away,” their visitor 
continued in a brisker tone, as she slowly 
smoothed one hand over the other: “We 
o’ Mount Sion Church gives a picnic every 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 27 

year, an* we’s ter have our’n nex’ week; 
but the picnic’s turned ter a ’scursion this 
time. Folks from other ’ligions kin go, an’ 
I mus’ say they turns out real well, so me 
an* Sarah’s goin’ ter invite yer two ter go 
long o’ us, an’ — ” 

“Oh !” Ruth gave a half sob. 

“Law sakes, what’s a matter?” exclaim- 
ed the old lady in a voice full of concern. 

“Nothing, nothing, dear Mrs. Lemon,” 
hurriedly explained the girl, trying to hide 
her agitation. “It was only a slight pain 
which has now quite passed.” 

“Dearie me, does she git ’em often?” 
the visitor inquired anxiously of Mary. 
The latter shook her head in reply, and 
being convinced the ailment was nothing 
serious, Mrs. Lemon resumed her dis- 
course. “Well, ez I was sayin’, I’m agoin’ 
ter take the fambly ter the ’scursion an’ 
thought mebbe so yer’d both go ’long. 
They say they’s heap grander places, but 
I ain’t seen ’em, an’ yer kin hev’ ’bout ez 
good times at Bay Ridge fer the money ez 
ever I see, er keer ter see, an’ ez yer ain’t 


28 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

never gone nowhere in two year, not even 
ter the city, ’cept two er mebbe three 
times, I think it would shake yer up a bit 
ter go ’long o’ us.” 

“Indeed, we will be your guests with 
the greatest pleasure,” Mary assured her, 
laying her shapely v/hite hand over the 
widow’s work-worn fingers and giving 
them a kindly pressure. Her eyes had 
become misty, so touched was she by her 
neighbor’s thoughtfulness. “I am quite 
sure we will enjoy the trip thoroughly,” 
she added, “and that it will brighten our 
rather burdensome existence greatly.” 

“Ah, to think of breathing salt air once 
more!” cried Ruth joyfully, already for- 
getting her recent alarm and eager to 
enter into the preparations for the unex- 
pected frolic. 

“Yer jes’ wait ’twell yer see the place,” 
Mrs. Lemon said, delighted to find that 
her invitation was so fully appreciated. 
“They’s lots o’ things ter see an’ do. The 
bathin’ ’s gran’, they says. Not ez I ever 
tried it myself, not holdin’ ter the notion 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 29 

o’ men and women-folks philanderin’ 
around in the water tergether with next 
ter no clothes on, ez yer might say. But 
there,” — she drew a long breath, — “people 
has sech a lot o’ different notions in the 
world, don’t they? Now there was paw — 
Mr. Lemon, I mean, my husban’ what’s 
dead — he was that set ag’in’ promiscu’s 
bathin’, as it’s called, that when Goldens 
come an’ built they big fine house by the 
river on the road ter town, he al’ays made 
the gals an’ me pull down the wagon 
blinds on the water side, fer he said it 
wa’n’t no sight fer decent church folk ter 
see.” She raised both her hands and 
shook her head solemnly, as if what might 
have been beheld was past describing. 
“Men is queer though, an’ they’s more ’n 
one kind in the worl’, fer my brother allers 
say he’d take any man’s wife, daughter, 
sister, an’ even mother a-swimmin’, what 
would let him, but he wanted the male sex 
ter understand his women-folks was ter be 
lef’ alone.” She gave an amused chuckle 
before continuing: “Yer wait till yer go 


30 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

on that ’scursion, fer yer’ll see some 
mighty quare sights. Why, Deacon Lynn 
and Elder Jones, so solemn ez they be on 
dry Ian’, is like friskin’ puppies when the 
water a-touches ’em. They’s a flounderin’ 
around an’ duckin’ all the womens they 
kin ketch, an’ sech sights as they be they- 
selves. Yer don’t know which is ugliest, 
the males er the females. It makes yer 
kinder think on Joseph an’ his dreams, 
fer it’s there yer kin see both the fat an* 
the lean kind.” As she became interested 
in what she was recounting she had 
slipped more and more into the dialect of 
her class. “Well, I reckon’ I’ll be agoin’ 
now,” she concluded as she rose slowly 
from the mahogany chair, “I’m real 
pleased yer’ll both go ’long.” 

Ruth accompanied her to her gate, for 
it was now quite dark. As she bid Mrs. 
Lemon good-night she impulsively threw 
her arms about her, kissed her on both 
cheeks, then with a merry laugh ran 
swiftly across the dusty road. 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 31 

“Well, whatever come over that gal 
anyhow, I wonder. She never any more 
’n shook ban’s, er said thank yer afore; 
not even fer the chicken er custard pie we 
sent ’em Christmas times,” the old woman 
pondered as she passed her hand gently 
over the spot where the soft lips had 
pressed. “Well, I’m glad I asked ’em all 
same. They won’t be no manner o’ 
trouble an’ don’t eat no more ’n mice. — 
Yes, Sarah, it’s me; I’m a cornin’.” 

The day of the excursion finally arrived, 
and the early morning cars running from 
Mount Sion to Washington were so 
crowded with happy and good-natured 
Mount Sionites that many had to stand 
all the way to town. Deacon Lynn de- 
clared he “didn’t reckon six men had ben 
lef’ fer ter keer fer the chickens.” After 
a ride of an hour and a half through the 
country and city, there was a rush and a 
crush on reaching the railroad station. 
Here endless laughter, good-natured chaff, 
and packing away into small spaces of 


32 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

lunch baskets and boxes, as well as grown 
people and children, took place before all 
were settled for the two hours’ journey 
ahead of them. The two sisters sat 
together back of the Lemon party, quietly 
amused at the various phases of life to be 
seen about them. They had never been 
on just such a trip, and found it wonder- 
fully amusing to watch the faces and 
manners of their fellow-travelers. 

At the end of a half hour the younger 
members of their party became restive, 
and at Mary’s suggestion Ruth opened a 
large box of caramels, which they had 
made the night before, and handed them 
around. Sarah sat apart from the family, 
crowded into a seat with a large basket 
and an obstreperous nephew. By her the 
young teacher remained for some time 
before returning to her place. A gentle- 
man on the opposite side of the car glanced 
toward her as she passed, at first in casual 
curiosity, then in surprised recognition. 
A few moments later he rose, went to the 
door, where he leaned, and at his leisure 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 33 

watched her and her companion intently, 
then walked rapidly down the aisle in 
their direction. The peculiar mesmeric 
influence that takes place when a stronger 
nature looks directly at one more easily 
governed, caused Ruth at that moment to 
raise her eyes, and thus brought him 
within her line of vision. With a slight 
exclamation she half rose to her feet as 
he gained her side. 

‘T hope Miss Nesbit has not forgotten 
me. 

“No, indeed, Mr. Brice,” came the 
prompt reply as her face lighted up under 
dimpling smiles. “I hardly expected to 
see you here, however,” she added. 

“Jove! what a little beauty she has 
become,” was his silent comment, while 
aloud he assured her: “You have changed 
but little; I should have known you any- 
where. And where do you reside, if I 
may be permitted to inquire?” 

“With my sister,” she answered. 
“Mary, you remember the son of papa’s 
old friend. Colonel Brice?” 


34 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

“I remember the Colonel very well,” 
said Mary, turning her beautiful face 
toward the young man, “and if I am not 
mistaken this is the small boy named 
Leonard, grown to man’s estate.” As 
their hands clasped she added, “How 
pleasant it is to meet an old friend once 
again.” 

Then followed questions and answers in 
rapid succession, and before long he had 
learned all that had befallen the sisters 
during the past eight years. 

Mrs. Lemon, sitting directly in front, 
drank in every word as young Brice bent 
over the back of her seat to converse with 
his friends. 

“I ’clar’, ’twere ez good ez any story- 
book,” she confided later on to Sarah. 
“The way o’ ’t was so : Seems the young 
man’s paw’s in the Army, and had ter go 
way off somewhere,” — waving her hand 
vaguely about her head, — “ ’spect ’twas ter 
fight Injuns; anyhow, arter he’d gone 
these gals’ paw he died suddint like. He 
was a Navy chap. Arter that they’d times 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 35 

an’ times. Fust they gives up they home 
an’ furniture, but that didn’t do no good 
ontil some friends got writin’ work for 
Mary ter do. Then bad ’nough not havin’ 
come, they maw sets down an’ takes sick 
an’ keeps sick, an’ don’t get no better. 
That’s how things went fer a spell, an’ 
then they maw she dies, but it didn’t do 
’em no kind o’ good, fer Miss Mary she 
done wore herself out so complete a 
writin’ all day’ an’ a nussin’ all night, that 
when she see she ain’t needed no more, 
she turns to an’ has a spell o’ sickness. 
Then it was Ruthie’s turn to earn the 
money, an’ she comes here ter Mount Sion 
ter teach.” 

Ruth had finished her narrative with an 
account of her life in the quiet village and 
her work in the district school, saying in 
conclusion : 

‘Tt isn’t a very thrilling tale, Mr. Brice, 
to one who, like yourself, has been at the 
seat of war. Now, be kind and tell Mary 
and me of your wanderings.” 


36 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

He did not answer her directly, for he 
had been more touched by the girl’s story 
than he cared to show. How well he 
remembered them in the days of their 
prosperity. 

“You no doubt think I should be able 
to give you glowing accounts of how the 
last few years have served me, but truth 
impels me to acknowledge that I was 
always just too late to be of any use in 
the scrapping matches during the late 
unpleasantness between Spain and our- 
selves.” 

“It is a pity, of course, for your sake, 
but it must be confessed it is rather 
refreshing to hear of at least one man who 
does not claim that the brunt of battle did 
not rest unaided on his shoulders,” Mary 
remarked; then asked, “Where are you 
stationed at present?” 

“In Washington; I am only just home 
from Manila — you know I follow the sea.” 
The next moment he gave an impatient 
exclamation as the train stopped before a 
small station. “Here we are at Annapolis 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 37 

Junction. It is too vexing to have to 
leave you so soon, but on my return to 
Washington, with your permission, I 
intend making a pilgrimage to Mount 
Sion.” With more regret than he had 
expected to experience, he took leave of 
the sisters and jumped from the platform 
just as the train got under way. 

Great was the excitement of the Mount 
Sionites over the chance encounter. The 
young girls would have liked nothing 
better than to meet the handsome 
stranger. Their elders frowned upon any 
such idea, but they nevertheless kept up 
a telegraphic system of nods and smiles to 
show how affairs were progressing. 

The day at Bay Ridge proved to be all 
that could be desired. The expanse of 
blue water might have) been an immense 
aqua marine, by turns smooth and clear, 
and the next moment dancing in the sun- 
light. A fine breeze blew up from the 
ocean, and each whiff of the briny air was 
like new life to the sisters who had been 
inland for so many years. The lunch was 


38 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

declared “jes’ a gran’ success,” by Deacon 
Lynn, in a famous after-dinner speech 
delivered on the broad piazza of the 
pavilion, “from Mary Ellen Jones’s apple 
jelly, ter Susan Crank’s home-cured ham ; 
an’ ez fer Miss Lemon, she’s done outdid 
herself on them sliced green apple pies.” 
Each mode of entertainment was tried, 
everything was enjoyed, every one was 
happy, and a very contented, if weary, 
party returned to Mount Sion late that 
night. 

“Maw — Sarah — look quick! I was 
mos’ sure he’d come ter-day.” Bess 
turned again to the window as she spoke. 

“Hush, Bess! My soul, don’t let the 
man hear yer,” expostulated Sarah, as she 
adjusted the slats of the shutter so she 
could have an unbroken view of the broad 
shoulders that seemed to fill up the greater 
part of the opening of “Queen Annie’s 
porch.” 

“My law, has he come? Let’s see him,” 
panted Mrs. Lemon, running with a limp 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 39 

and a hop from her kitchen and pushing 
her youngest daughter unceremoniously 
aside, while she took her place at the 
shutter. ‘‘Yes, ma’am,” she chuckled, “I 
felt mos’ sure he would.” 

‘‘Would what?” asked Bess crossly, 
trying to find another place from which 
to watch the cottage across the road. 

“Have' on another pair o’ pants,” mur- 
mured her mother. “He’s had on clean 
white pants every time he’s come, an’ I 
reckon these is his bes’, fer they’s slicker 
’n nothin’. Lan’s sakes, he mus’ have a 
washin’ enough fer a hull fambly jes’ fer 
hisself alone.” As the unconscious sub- 
ject of all this speculation was admitted 
to the cottage the old woman exclaimed 
pettishly: “Why can’t Ruthie ever meet 
him? I never sees ’em tergether, an’ yet 
I seen him each time he’s come these six 
weeks.” 

July had slipped by and half of August 
was flitting into the past. The villagers 
were becoming almost accustomed to the 
comings and goings of the young naval 


40 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

officer to the little home on the hillside. 
After the murky heat of the town it was 
refreshing to saunter across the Aqueduct 
Bridge in the cool of the day and, boarding 
a car, pass rapidly through the glades and 
on to the Virginia hills beyond, and gaze 
down on that ever-beautiful view of 
Washington, bathed in the glowing crim- 
son and gold of the sunset, or as a 
phantom city in the clear cold light of the 
moon. Thither he now constantly bent 
his steps, but no longer to view the land- 
scape o’er. The light of welcome in a 
pair of blue eyes fully repaid him for the 
length of his trips and proved more 
fascinating than the beauties of nature. 

In these few weeks his friendship and 
admiration for Ruth had deepened into a 
warm and lasting affection. In former 
days he had been a bonny, kind-hearted 
boy, and Ruth a tiny, timid child, but 
there had been too great a disparity of 
age for them to be comrades, although the 
fact that their parents were friends and 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 41 

neighbors threw them more or less 
together. Once, when returning from 
school, he had come upon the child being 
tormented by some ill-looking rowdies. 
Seeing Ruth in tears, he threw himself 
upon the evident leader of the gang, and 
after thrashing him soundly, he straight- 
ened his necktie, picked up his hat, and 
slipping his hand through the little girl’s 
arm, led her home with the air of a youth 
who liked nothing better than to finish off 
any number of toughs. From that hour 
he had become Ruth’s hero, and she was 
his warm friend. Not long after this 
Colonel Brice was ordered to the Pacific 
coast, and on Commander Nesbit’s death 
her life was completely changed. The 
sisters had heard but rarely from their 
friends, many of whom were in distant 
cities, and of Leonard they knew nothing 
at all. 

Being now stationed in Washington, 
Brice found it both easy and pleasant to 
renew his former friendship with Mary 


42 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

and Ruth, but before a fortnight had 
passed he thought the day a gloomy one 
that had kept him away from the fair 
little teacher. To-night he had taken 
supper with them, and as he left the tiny 
home a happy light shone in his steadfast 
gray eyes as he called a last good-night 
from the gateway to the white-robed 
figure standing on the porch; then with 
a wave of his hand he started down the 
road at a swinging pace, whistling merrily 
as he went in the darkness. 

“He didn’t ever do ’t afore, Sarah, did 
he?” Mrs. Lemon raised her head and 
listened intently. 

“Not ez I knows on, maw,” answered 
the patient daughter as she sewed buttons 
on a waist. 

“Humph!” mused the old lady, folding 
up her work preparatory to retiring for the 
night, “he’s beginnin’ ter take notice, sho’ 
nuff ; a heap o’ notice. I think’s we’ll hear 
some news ’fore long at this rate; I’d bet 
somethin’ pretty, v^^e will.” 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 


43 


“Mount Sion, Va., August 15, 1900. 
“My Dear Captain Lisle: 

“I wonder if you remember a promise 
you made me the last time I saw you, 
seven years ago. The compact ran as 
follows: Should you be the very first 
person invited to my wedding, you agreed 
to be present and dance with me on that 
happy occasion. I am now living up to 
my part of the bargain, and am keeping 
my letter to you a secret, for not even dear 
old Mary knows a word of it, or has any 
idea to whom I am writing. 

“I am to be married just one month 
from to-day, and do hope you can be a 
witness of the ceremony. It is asking a 
great deal, that you should come all the 
way from Kansas because of a promise to 
a child, but do come anyhow. 

“My fiancee is Leonard Brice, the son 
of your former Colonel. Of course I 
think him quite the nicest man in the 


44 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

world. He is in the navy, and — well, yes — 
I love him dearly. 

“Very sincerely your friend, 

“RUTH NESBIT. 

“P. S. — The wedding is to be very quiet, 
only Leonard’s parents are to be asked.” 

“Fort , Kansas, August 23, 1900. 

“My Dear Child: 

“You cannot understand with what 
pleasure I read of your approaching mar- 
riage, in your letter which has only just 
been received, owing to my absence from 
the post. I have already applied for leave 
and hope to receive it in time for me to be 
with you on September 15. As you have 
not told Miss Mary of your having written 
to me, suppose we keep up the joke and 
give her a surprise. If you agree to this, 
let Leonard know of it, and ask him, as 
the wedding is to be a family affair, to 
allow me, for old acquaintance sake, to be 
his best man. 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 


45 


“With earnest wishes for your happi- 
ness, I remain, 

“Yours faithfully, 

“GEORGE LISLE.” 


The thought of a trousseau was at once 
a delight and torment to Ruth, and many 
and long were the discussions in the small 
home as to ways and means. There was 
little money available for the purchase of 
even the most modest outfit. It was 
finally decided that but one dress could 
be bought, and a few days later the 
young teacher went to town on a shopping 
expedition, returning in a very happy 
frame of mind, with arms loaded with 
bundles, and hardly able to stand on her 
aching feet. 

That evening as the sisters sat together 
in the twilight, Ruth asked (from her 
position on the floor at Mary’s side) 
whether she should wear the green cloth 
dress when she was married, or do up her 
old white lawn that Leonard admired. 


46 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

“Your new dress will be very service- 
able to you, dear, but your wedding gown 
should be white satin.” 

“How can you be so absurd!” Ruth 
exclaimed half petulantly. “You know it 
was only by your giving up getting a new 
winter dress that I could afford the blue 
wrapper.” Distress and disappointment 
were to be heard in her voice. It was 
something new for her sister to fail to 
understand her. 

“I did not intend you to purchase it, my 
darling,” and Mary bent over and drew 
the girl, who had drawn away from her, 
into a close embrace. “Long ago,” she 
continued, — “oh ! in looking backward, 
little sister, it seems a century ago, — 
before our trouble came, I — I was 
engaged.” Ruth could hardly believe 
she heard the last words aright. “He 
was a very noble man, dear child.” 
Mary’s voice had grown husky. “Our 
marriage was to take place in a short 
time. No one save my parents knew of 
our betrothal, not even my little sister. 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 47 

for my lover was in the far West and it 
was doubtful when he could come to 
claim me. One day we received word 
that he would reach Washington in two 
weeks’ time and asked if I would marry 
him the day after he arrived. There was 
a hurried consultation and then dear papa 
wired that things should be as he desired. 
How well I recall the bustle that ensued ; 
it was on that day the white satin was 
bought for my wedding gown. You 
knew nothing of all this, for you only 
returned home from your visit to the 
Grahams two days later, when papa died. 
You can remember how shocking it was 
to find ourselves almost destitute and that 
it was then I became the bread-winner of 
the family. When my lover arrived he 
begged of me to marry him immediately 
and permit him to give mother and you 
a home; but he was a poor man, Ruth, 
and because of the very intensity of my 
love I could not, and would not, lay the 
burden of my anxieties and cares upon 
his shoulders; so I told him that as long 


48 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

as mama and you needed me, I would 
never be his wife. He would not consent 
to our engagement being broken at first, 
but a year later I sent him my simple little 
ring, and told him he was as free as I 
should consider myself to be from that 
hour.” 

Mary’s voice broke, and for a few 
minutes it seemed as if she would be 
unable to continue. Ruth was frightened 
at the intensity of her grief, and clung to 
her in silence. 

“Only God knows what those first 
years were, but thanks to His mercy, 
although I have never ceased to love him, 
and long for him every hour I live, I have 
in part conquered self, and am now at 
last at peace. So you must wear my 
satin dress, little sister — it shall be my 
wedding gift to you.” Bending her beau- 
tiful face, she kissed the soft round cheek, 
and then swiftly left the room. 

Who would have thought of such a 
thing? Who could the man have been? 
Ruth pondered, but she could recall no 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 49 

one in particular, for in those old days 
there had always been a number of 
admirers about her sister. It is true that 
she had been very young at the time, but 
she felt sure that had she ever seen 
Mary’s lover she would have understood 
somewhat of the situation. 

‘'Never mind,” thought the girl as she 
tossed wakefully on her little bed, “she 
shall tell me about it in the morning.” 
But in this she was mistaken, for when 
she asked for information the next day, 
Mary begged of her never to refer to the 
subject again. 

“Run away like a good child,” she 
urged, “and allow your old-maid sister to 
attend to her work. But wait a moment,” 
she added, seeing Ruth turn away reluct- 
antly, “why not take the materials for 
both your dresses over to Sarah, and 
engage her to make them for you at 
once.” She opened the drawer of her 
bureau as she spoke, drew forth a roll, 
done up in many wrappings of linen and 


50 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

tissue paper, and thrusting it into her 
sister’s hand abruptly turned away. 

Ruth took her advice, and for the next 
two hours was engrossed with the seam- 
stress, over fashion plates, while in the 
small bed-room she had left knelt a lonely 
woman, heart-wringing sobs bursting 
from her lips, try as she would to check 
them, and the pent-up agony of seven 
long years of renunciation tearing apart 
the iron bonds of will which had con- 
trolled her thus far. 

“Maw, is yer there?” Sarah whispered 
mysteriously as Ruth closed the house 
door. 

“Yep, I heerd mos’ she say,” came the 
equally guarded answer, and Mrs. Lemon 
emerged from her kitchen with expect- 
ancy v»^rit large upon her sallow counten- 
ance. “Not ter say ez I was list’in’, fer 
I wa’n’t; but ez I made up them apple 
pies I ketched a word here an’ there.” 

While her mother was speaking, Sarah 
untied one of the bundles, disclosing the 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 51 

shining folds of satin, seeing which the 
old woman threw up her hands in aston- 
ishment, caught her breath and finally 
exclaimed : 

“My soul! Well now, I ’dare, ain’t 
that gran’!” Wiping her already clean 
hands on her spotless white apron, she 
readjusted her spectacles and took up a 
corner of the material ; passing her fingers 
over it at first gingerly, then caressingly, 
and in the end fringed out a few threads 
as she muttered: 

“Sarah Lemon, ez I lives it’s silk, silk 
both ways the hull way th’oo.” 

“She say Miss Mary give it ter her fer 
a wedding present an’ wants me ter make 
her trowso.” Sarah volunteered the in- 
formation with a certain quiet elation, 
both in voice and manner. 

“Sarah,” said Mrs. Lemon in a business 
tone, with her hands on her hips and her 
head held high, “ye’ve handled ’bout ez 
good dress goods ez ever was see in this 
village, fer some ten year back ; now. 


52 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

hones’, tell me what yer ’spec that there 
>> 

cos . 

‘‘ ’Deed ef I knows,” the younger 
woman replied ; ‘‘but the satin Mary 
Ellen bought when she married Elder 
Jones was linen one way, an’ I know it 
cos’ at least a dollar, an’ I reckon this cos’ 
a sight more.” 

“Well, it ain’t a mite too good fer her, 
but where yer spose she got the money 
ter buy it?” 

“Mebbe so ’twas bought when they was 
rich, an’ she never got no chance ter wear 
it.” A dreamy expression stole over the 
speaker’s face. Long ago she too had 
loved and lost, and she surmised more 
than she was willing to tell of the history 
of that white satin gown. 

Soon the whole village knew of the 
glories reposing beneath the Lemon’s 
rooftfee. Who would be invited to the 
wedding was now the important topic of 
conversation in every family. Never in 
the course of Sarah’s existence had she 
been so popular or received so much 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 53 

attention, and her whole family shared in 
her celebrity. Every one wanted to 
know how the dresses were to be made, 
and for a fortnight before they were 
completed the house was besieged with 
visitors. Even Bess, the irrepressible 
new woman, found she had sufficient of 
the old leaven in her composition to be 
willing to bind seams and fell bands, so as 
to see and hear all that was taking place. 

The day the dresses were completed 
every female above a dozen years came 
to inspect them. Sarah was seated in the 
parlor, with one of the best double sheets 
spread on the floor beneath her chair, and 
herself enveloped in its mate, as she put 
the last stitches to the dainty white gown. 

“If it ben me I’d not hed it so plain- 
like,” commented Mary Ellen Jones. 

“Ain’t it ter have no trimmin’?” 
inquired an interested spectator. 

“Well,” explained the seamstress, to 
whom the simplicity had been a sore trial, 
“she ’lows she’s goin’ ter have a frill o’ 
lace at the neck an’ sleeves, an’ a jay-bow 


54 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

down the front o’ the basque ; but it’s ole 
lace,” she added, with a sigh. “I reckon 
they can’t well ’ford ter get any that’s 
new.” 

“I seen it, an’ ’tain’t so bad,” interposed 
Mrs. Lemon. ‘‘It ’longed ter they maw, 
an’ it do look a trifle yaller, but ’tain’t so 
bad. Miss Mary she called it by some 
Frenchified name, so I made out it must 
a come from some town in Yomp Point 
Delaney, I think she say was the name 
o’ the place, but anyhow ’twas made in 
the furran countries.” And after that 
announcement there was no other topic 
of conversation at any supper table in 
Mount Sion that night. 

I 

Truly, if “happy is the bride that the 
sun shines on,” Ruth Nesbit’s future was 
to be a bright one, for the fifteenth of 
September dawned a most glorious day. 

Captain Lisle had sent her word that 
he would arrive in time for the ceremony 
and urged her to keep his coming a secret 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 55 

from Colonel and Mrs. Brice as well as 
Mary. 

The wedding gown had been brought 
home and was lying on the bed waiting 
to be donned by the little bride, while in 
the next room Mary’s best dress, a rusty 
and much-mended black cloth, lay across 
a chair, well brushed, and with fresh 
ruffles in the neck and sleeves. It was 
too shiny perhaps in the seams and 
darned beneath the arms, but alas, a 
dress, no matter of what material, will 
wear out eventually, be its intentions 
never so good. 

After an early dinner Ruth went to 
bid farewell to one of her former pupils 
who was ill, leaving Mary to complete 
the floral decorations indoors. The latter 
had just finished her task, and was 
placing a large bowl of golden-rod on 
the mantel when she heard a step on the 
gravel path. Taking it for granted her 
sister had returned for the sunshade that 
was lying forgotten on the chair, she 
called out, without turning her head : 


56 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

‘‘Come in, dear, I was waiting for you.” 

“Were you?” asked a deep voice not 
in the least like Ruth’s, and before she 
could move she was closely clasped in 
George Lisle’s arms. “Ah, Mary, say it 
again,” he pleaded, as he kissed her 
passionately on eyes and lips. “I know 
you did not think it was I when you 
spoke, but now you know I am here, 
repeat it, as we stand heart to heart once 
more. Dear love, if you but knew how 
I have hungered for a sight of your dear 
face and the sound of your sweet voice, 
you would not have bid me stay away so 
long. At last Ruth wrote to me she was 
to marry Leonard Brice and I knew there 
could no longer be any obstacle to our 
marriage, and I’ve come for my bride. 
What has my loved one to say to that?” 
he asked, as he released her, with a laugh 
that had a queer little catch of emotion 
in it. 

Happy tears stood in Mary’s eyes as 
she looked up at the tall man who was 
patiently waiting for her answer. Her 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 57 

lips quivered, and it was with difficulty 
that she controlled herself. 

“I do not think I ought to marry you, 
dear,” she said, “for I am no longer 
young. Thirty may not seem old to 
most women, but it means old with me. 
Dear George, do not be angry, try to 
understand. I am not the strong, self- 
reliant girl you knew eight years ago, but 
a weak and broken woman — who — ” 
“Mary,” interrupted Captain Lisle, 
“you were never half so dear to me in 
those old days as you are this moment.” 
Taking her hands, he continued: “You 
say you are no longer young. Well, if 
the truth is to be told, neither am I. If 
you are thirty, I am forty. Here is a 
bargain, sweetheart. If you will look 
out for me when I have rheumatism, I 
will take care of you when — ” 

“Be reasonable,” she interrupted in her 
turn; but taking her face between his 
hands, he gazed earnestly into the depths 
of her clear brown eyes, and continued 
as if she had not spoken : 


58 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

“Long ago you gave yourself to me. 
Until now I have allowed you to have 
your own sweet will in all things, because 
you thought you would be happier. But 
from this moment I intend instituting a 
new management, and so. Miss Mary” — 
he was smiling now — “I give you fair 
warning to ‘but me no buts,’ for I’ll not 
listen.” While the speech was masterful, 
he raised her hands to his lips and kissed 
them reverently. He understood and 
loved his Mary so well. 

After this they talked quietly together 
until they saw Ruth returning down the 
road, when he went to meet her, and give 
Mary an opportunity for a few quiet 
moments to herself, for it had been 
arranged that they would not confide 
their plans for the future to any one until 
after Ruth’s marriage. 

George Lisle was the soul of wit and 
humor among his fellows, and now he 
exerted himself two-fold in his effort to 
entertain the bride-elect and thus shield 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 59 

his sweetheart’s unusually happy face 
from her bright eyes. 

“It is high time for us to be dressing !” 
the little teacher suddenly exclaimed, and 
darted from the room and up the stairs. 
As Mary was about to follow, Lisle 
detained her, and drawing a ring from 
his pocket slipped it onto her third finger. 

“Oh, indeed, indeed, you should not 
have bought this!” she cried, as a large 
sapphire surrounded by diamonds flashed 
into view, adding hesitatingly, “you 
know you cannot afford such gifts.” 

“Oh, prudent Mary, and how does it 
come that my lady understands the con- 
dition of our exchequer so well?” His 
question caused a slight flush to over- 
spread her face, making her more like 
the winsome girl he had loved in the old 
days. “You may rest assured I stood 
too much in awe of you to venture on 
such an expenditure unless I felt I could 
afford it. You see you had to have an 
engagement ring,” he said in explanation 
as he caught her to his breast, “and our 


60 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

old one had been on my finger so long I 
would feel lost without it.” 

‘‘I feel as if this happiness could not be 
for me,” she whispered as her head rested 
on his shoulder. “I have been so tired, 
dear, for such a long, long time.” 

'‘But happiness is for you, my own; 
please God both for you and for me!” he 
murmured as he tenderly smoothed the 
soft hair from her brow. When she 
would have left him he handed her a box, 
evidently from a florist, while he said: 
“I pray you to adorn yourself with these 
old favorites of mine, dear lady, for you 
must look as well as Ruth to-night.” 

Never to be forgotten .among the 
inhabitants of Mount Sion was Ruth 
Nesbit’s wedding. With the first peep 
of the birds the village was astir. For a 
week, in every home, there had been 
mending, patching and cleaning of gar- 
ments to be worn on that occasion, for 
they were all to go, men, women and 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 61 

children, and for the once all envyings 
and heart-burnings were at peace. 

The making of the two dresses for the 
bride had been a wonderful advertise- 
ment for Sarah. Orders were already on 
hand that would keep her busy far into 
the following spring, and knowing the 
cause of her renewed popularity, she 
added that morning, as she knelt in 
prayer, “An’ bless ’em, O Lord, them 
two dear gals ’cross the road; an’ may 
the good they’ve done fer me, return ter 
’em a hundred-fold.” 

Mrs. Lemon was dressed in her best 
early in the afternoon, and while caring 
for several of her grandchildren in her 
“best room,” had the advantage of seeing 
every one who went in or out of her 
neighbors’ house. 

When the carriage arrived containing 
the groom and his parents, the excite- 
ment in the village ran high, and Mrs. 
Lemon became so agitated at the sight 
of the uniforms and brass buttons that 
her new cap twisted quite awry, and she 


62 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

would never have known of it but for 
Bess. 

Mary’s deft fingers had converted the 
kitchen into a second sitting-room. The 
fireless stove was covered with a white 
cloth, on which rested a huge wedding- 
cake, the gift of the Lemon family. The 
deal table had become a thing of beauty 
under its load of flowers and large 
pitchers of lemonade. While white cur- 
tains at the window, a bright rug on the 
floor, and masses of golden-rod wherever 
it could be placed, changed the appear- 
ance of the room completely. Even with 
this addition, however, the crowd was 
great, and but for “Queen Annie’s” porch 
might have been uncomfortable. 

The first of the bridal party to enter 
the room were Colonel and Mrs. Brice, 
followed by Leonard and Captain Lisle. 
A moment later Mary descended the 
stairway, and with Ruth leaning on her 
arm slowly crossed the room to the win- 
dow, draped in a curtain of ferns and the 
bright yellow flowers, where the clergy- 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 63 

man awaited them. It would have been 
difficult to say which of these two women 
was the more beautiful; Mary, in her old 
black dress, whose only adornment was 
masses of blush roses on her breast and 
at her belt, or little Ruth, with the heavy 
folds of satin falling about her dainty 
figure and carrying a huge bouquet. 

On relinquishing her sister’s hand 
Mary realized how lonely she might have 
been but for the great happiness that had 
come into her life, and as she raised her 
eyes and glanced across the intervening 
space she found those eyes gazing upon 
her with an expression of ineffable and 
satisfied love. A trembling smile stole 
over her lips, and from that moment a 
great peace overshadowed her heart. 

How quickly the words were pro- 
nounced that made the two young people 
man and wife. The clergyman, Mr. 
Walford, was congratulating them before 
the service seemed fairly begun. 

Scarcely waiting for the old gentleman 
to finish his rather ponderous speech. 


I 


64 Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 

Captain Lisle stepped forward, saying as 
he took Mary’s hand in his: 

“Mr. Walford, as I secured a license 
before coming to Mount Sion, will you 
be good enough to repeat the marriage 
ceremony?” 

A ripple of suppressed exclcunations 
could be heard through the rooms, 
quickly hushed, as the minister began 
immediately : 

“Dearly beloved brethren — ” 

How strong was the clasp of Lisle’s 
hand on hers, how steady his voice as he 
vowed to protect his Mary ; but her voice 
had a ring of truth and love that sounded 
the heartstrings of all her friends as she 
plighted her troth to the man whom she 
had loved through seven years of faithful 
waiting. 

“Oh, Mary, dear Mary, to think I never 
suspected who it was !” cried Ruth as she 
flung her arms about her sister. “How 
glad I am now that I wrote that letter,” 
she added, turning to the Captain. 


Mrs. Lemon’s Neighbors 65 

“No reprieve to a prisoner was ever 
more welcome than it was to me, my 
child,” he answered as he kissed her 
brow, “for Mary told me that until you 
were in a home of your own she would 
never again listen to me.” 

“Well, I de-clar’!” ejaculated Elder 
Jones as he slapped his thigh a thunder- 
ous whack. “Did you ever hear o’ sech 
doin’s hereabouts?” 

“It do beat all,” Deacon Lynn confided 
to a friend, as he pulled his long gray 
goatee thoughtfully, “how some folks kin 
keep things to theyselves!” 

“An’ ter think,” excitedly exclaimed 
Mrs. Lemon, as she went from group to 
group with a plate piled high with cake, 
“it all come ’bout from that ’scursion.” 





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